


Blind Date

by Gummiebear



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 22:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17692196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gummiebear/pseuds/Gummiebear
Summary: Eric's mother plays Cupid and she may have gotten it right this time.





	Blind Date

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever fic for Deledier, I wanted to venture into a new fandom.

Eric despised his family, really and truly. He knew he should’ve taken himself out of their family group chat. The notifications usually clogged up his phone anyway. Never had a silent moment away from them. They were all dispersed across the entire continent, one of his brothers was maybe in New York this month, who knew. Either way the messages never stopped. He could go to sleep with no notifications and wake up with close to fifty. His mum was known for sending texts one sentence at a time. Personalizing every sentence to a specific child instead of just one general thought. It was touching and heartfelt but overwhelming.

His sisters would clog the chat with all of the latest celebrity gossip or a new fashion trend. It was harmless but when the chat eventually turned to them ganging up on Eric it was horrific. You’d think that with him being the oldest he’d have it easy, nope. It was the complete opposite. Being the oldest of six was never easy, it was five against one. Six against one if their mother was up in the topic they were discussing. Her favorite topic of conversation? His love life. She knew her son was still young but she desperately held on to the idea of him falling in love and living happily ever after. She dreamt that for all her children, but Eric in particular.

“I worry about you,” Eric’s mum cooed, patting down his hair. “You’re always so busy.”

Eric sighed as he stirred the sauce he was heating up. His mum invited herself over to his flat for dinner. She just showed up unannounced and batted her eyes and asked kindly of Eric would mind if she stayed over for some mother and son bonding time over some home cooked food. He couldn’t stay no, would never say no, but he knew she had an ulterior motive. “I work five days a week, sometimes six. I am busy, not lonely or alone, mum.”

She raised her hands in a defensive stance. “I know, babe. Let me treat you like a mum should, Eric. Your brothers and sisters still do.”

“Mum,” he sighed, turning off the stove top, turning his body around to face his mother. She looked sullen and he hated that he was the reason for that. “Don’t make me out to be the bad guy here.”

“Amor,” she cooed, using the Portuguese nickname for all her children. “My strong, bullheaded, way too independent boy.”

Eric had to scoff at his mother’s words, she was purposely buttering him up so he’d let his guard down. “I can see the wheels turning in your mind. What are you planning?”

“Absolutely nothing,” she sang. She placed a kiss to Eric’s cheek, a sign that whatever was bothering her a few seconds earlier had passed. “Nothing at all.”

Luckily the dinner ran smoothly after the small little tiff Eric got into with his mother. They were able to remain civil as they sat down and ate. They got about nothing, work and family, nothing that would make Eric squirm in his seat. Louise made small talk about her physical therapy after discovering she had arthritis in her knee slowing her mobility a little, nothing major. Her doctor recommended the physical therapy to ease the pain before it turned into anything worse. Eric just nodded and ate his noddles, pacifying his mum with grunts of noise to seem like he was following the story. She went on and on for what seemed like forever about her physical therapist and Eric didn’t have the heart to tell her that he wasn’t really paying attention to what she was babbling about. She had just complained that he wasn’t a doting son, so he played his role and let her talk, her voice echoing around the loft.

“Come over for dinner next weekend,” Louise invited him and she gathered her things as she getting ready to leave an hour later.

“Mum,” Eric groaned, helping his mother put on her coat.

“It’s a demand, Eric,” she said sternly. “Your father and I want to see you around more often. Like you said, you’re always busy. Well don’t be busy next Saturday and let us treat you to a home cooked meal. I’m making paella.”

Eric sighed, he knew he couldn’t say no when his favorite meal was going to be served. “Need me to bring anything?”

“Just your handsome face,” she beamed, patting his cheek softly. “Oh, and maybe dress nice. No joggers or track suits. Wear something that fits.”

Eric rolled his eyes playfully and kissed the hand that was on his cheek. “Only for you mother.”

“Good,” Louise smiled, patting Eric’s cheek one last time before gathering her bag and leaving the loft.

The week flew by and blurred together like it usually did for Eric. He spent a vast majority of his hours awake working. When he wasn’t working he spoke to his family via the never ending group chat. His mother reminding him almost daily about their scheduled dinner for that Saturday. His sisters acting jealous that their mum was making Eric’s favorite meal while they had to eat ramen and easy mac in their uni dorm rooms. Sometimes it was a blessing to be the eldest. Eric tried to occupy his free him with fussing around his loft, cleaning up and finally making it fee like a home even though he’d been living there for almost a full year now. On Saturday he woke up around noon, exhaustion winning over his desire to wake early and get things done. He wasn’t expected at his parents house until five and it usually took a half hour to get there by car. 

Around three Eric reluctantly started to get himself ready. He showered and shaved, knowing his dad would comment on his weak attempt to grow facial hair. It wasn’t Eric’s fault he had pale skin and blonde hair and the inability to properly grow either a mustache or beard. He stood in a towel in front of his dresser searching for something, anything to wear. He wasn’t one for splurging on clothes, he spent his hard earned money on things he could actually get joy from. A new television, speakers, electronics, that’s what he truly cared for. After huffing and puffing for a good half hour and hearing his mother’s voice in his head criticizing him over his clothes, he settled on the outfit he wore to his sister’s wedding the summer before. He nixed the tie but wore the crisp white shirt and the black slacks. It was the only semi decent outfit he had and he knew his mum would approve, even though she’d immediately recognize the clothes. Beggars can’t be choosers at this point.

“Perfect!” Louise exclaimed when she answered the door at exactly five like she demanded repeatedly over the phone and text. “My beautiful eldest boy.”

“Mum,” he groaned over her sudden affection, kissing his cheeks and ruffling his hair, like he was a kid again after he skidded his knee playing football in the back garden with his brothers and dad.

“Jeremy!” She shouted as she escorted Eric into the living room where his father sat. “Look at how sharp Eric looks.”

Jeremy looked up briefly from flipping through the channels and nodded his agreement. “Smart.”

“Smart,” she agreed.

“Who are you two and what have you done with my parents?” Eric asked taking a seat on the couch next to his father. “Should I be worried? Are you guys getting divorced or something? Dying even?”

“God forbid,” Louise gasped, grabbing her chest. “Nothing’s wrong. Just two parents admiring their work is all.”

“Okay that’s gross,” he said, squirming in his seat at his mother’s words. “Unnecessary.”

Eric had to remind himself a few times before they sat down to eat that he loved his parents and he needed to let them take care of him from time to time. He was the eldest, mid twenties, the first one to leave the nest. They were just compassionate people, especially towards him. They openly admitted that they were too young and not ready to start a family when Eric came along, they learned as they went when it came to raising him. Now they were making up for lost time. He was too damn stubborn to let them. But he did enjoy spending time with them when he could. Sitting on the couch talking about the football matches from earlier in the day with his dad. Trying to argue why he believed Tottenham had a chance to win the title while his dad saw Manchester City doing the impossible and becoming repeat champions. It was all in light hearted fun and it reminded Eric why he should make the half hour journey to his parents more often.

“Eric, can you please set the table?” Louise asked, her voice sugary sweet, definitely not her normal tone.

Eric reluctantly stood up and side eyed his mum as he grabbed the dishes, utensils, and glasses off the kitchen counter. “Why are we speaking in our suspicious voice, mother?”

“Just set the table,” she ignored his prying question and pulled her mother voice.

“Mum,” Eric called to her a moment later, laying out the things on the table. “There’s three of us, yeah? Why are there four sets of plates?”

“Louise,” Jeremy’s voice came from the next room.

“Louise,” Eric echoed his fathers tone perfectly, scarily actually, it was a gift. “What are we hiding from me?”

Louise stopped cooking for a moment with a sigh and turned to face Eric, her face sheepish. “I’m not hiding anything, just withholding information until the right time.”

“Which is now,” Eric guessed. He hated surprises, not being in control of all that was around him, made him anxious, made him agitated and sweaty, like right now. “So spill.”

“I may have invited someone over for dinner,” she replied, her voice low and shaky but unwavering. Eric held a tight smile and nodded his head, letting his mother know she could continue to explain. “My physical therapist, his name is Dele, he’s around your age. Nice boy.”

“Mum,” Eric repeated himself for what felt like the hundredth time that night. “Why?”

“He’s alone. He has no one around him to look after him,” she explained, turning back around to tend to the food again.

Eric huffed out a hot breath and continued setting the table. There was no use in arguing, he wasn’t going to win. “You always have ulterior motives, don’t you.”

The bell rang moments later before Louise could state her argument. Eric looked at his mother who turned her head to look back at him, neither of them budging. Stubborn people they were. Jermey made no indication that he was going to move either, it wasn’t his guest after all. Louise just kept stirring the pot and humming to herself. Eric gave in, reluctantly, and walked to the door to answer it. The bell rang a second time as he opened the door. His breath was stuck in his throat for a second as he was greeted with a big warm smile. So this was Dele he presumed. At first sight he looked like a decent bloke if his contagious smile was any indication. Eric quickly snapped himself back into reality once Dele cleared his throat, obviously feeling the awkward tension.

“Eric,” he introduced himself, extending out his hand.

Dele accepted the extended hand pleasantly and let himself be led into the home. “Dele.”

“Dele!” Louise greeted him warmly, hugging him. “I’m so glad you were able to make it.”

“Louise,” he cooed at her admiration and accepted the hug warmly. “I haven’t had a home cooked meal in ages, I couldn’t say no.”

“You know Jeremy,” she introduced her husband who waved as a greeting. “And I see you’ve met my eldest, Eric.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Dele replied, still being dragged around the home by Louise. She politely sat him down at the kitchen table where everything by now was set and ready.

Without proper invitation the rest of the family joined Dele around the table. Louise served everyone before serving herself and sitting down at the head of the table opposite Jeremy. That left Eric sitting directly across from Dele and that damn smile. They sat in silence and ate, the awkward tension palpable. Eric knew he was basically set up on a blind date but didn’t know how to proceed. It had been a long time since he’d been on one and of course never one with both or either of his parents present. What was he supposed to do, supposed to say? He was going to play it by ear, let Dele start the conversation or just remain in silence and enjoy his meal in peace and quiet.

“Your mum told me you grew up in Portugal,” Dele said. Guess he was starting the get to know you phase of the conversation.

Eric nodded, wiping his face with his napkin. “We moved there when I was about eight and I moved back here for university. They all came back about two years ago.”

“I’ve never been,” Dele added. “Never left England actually. Is it as beautiful as it seems?”

“The coast line is divine,” Louise chimed in. “Seeing the sunset over the ocean, especially in the summer.”

Dele nodded as he drank the water from his cup, he could just picture the scene. The blues and pinks in the sky over the crystal blue ocean, laying on the white sand, the ocean breeze causing goosebumps on his tanned skin. “I’ve gotta go there one day.”

“Eric can take you,” Louie volunteered which made Eric choke on his food. “You okay hun?”

Eric blushed and nodded his head. “Wrong pipe.”

“Be careful,” she warned him softly, shifting her attention to the other side of the table. “So Dele, what made you decide to become a physical therapist?”

That’s how the night kept going. Louise would ask a question to Dele and sit wide eyed as he answered, like she was the one on the date. Once she felt that Dele’s answer was sufficient she’d volunteer Eric’s reply. He hardly could get a word in edgewise. His father would shake his head from time to time and cut looks over to his wife as a warning, to let her know that Eric was more than capable of speaking for himself. Louise was either unaware of the looks or unbothered by them because she just kept talking, taking up all the time Eric could’ve spoken. He did get a word in edgewise from time to time, adding little quips or one liners to whatever was being discussed. Despite that fact that his mother had monopolized the conversation he was really learning a lot about Dele. He seemed like a good bloke, laughed at all the horrendous jokes Eric was able to make. His smile was infectious, his laugh cute. Dele was fit, there was no denying that.

“I’m going to wash the dishes,” Louise announced once dinner was over. She stood up and lightly tugged on Jeremy’s arm. “Come help.”

“We have a dish washer!” He yelled at her tug.

Louise narrowed her eyes at her husband, speaking to him without words. “Please.”

It took a moment but Jeremy finally got the hint and joined his wife in the next room leaving Eric and Dele alone for the first time that night. They weren’t far, the rooms were connected but it gave them some semblance of privacy. They just sat there, silent. Eric played with the tablecloth, wrapping the red fabric around his finger to pass the time. Dele checked his phone, probably Instagram with all the double tapping he was doing, still smiling.

“This is awkward,” Eric broke the silence, immediately getting Dele’s attention.

“Hmm?” He hummed in response, locking his phone and putting it on the table. “What is?”

“I didn’t know you were coming until the bell rang,” Eric told him with a slight blush creeping up on his cheeks. “I’m sorry if I didn’t live up to any expectations you may have had of me.”

“What? No!” Dele exclaimed. “Look Eric, I came here with no expectations. Just your mum inviting me for dinner and telling me she had a son she may or may not want me to meet, that’s all.”

Eric looked up at Dele the over at his mum who was washing dishes and obviously trying to listen in on their conversation. It was all light hearted and cute, endearing even, kind of like Dele. “In a different scenario this would be less awkward, I’d be less awkward.”

“Understandable,” Dele nodded in agreement. “Want to grab a pint with me? I mean after this.”

“Yes,” he replied without missing a beat. A dark dingy pub and a cold pint after this night? Eric was definitely okay with that idea. “I bet I can convince me mum to let us skip whatever Mary Berry concoction she made for dessert.”

Dele looked over at Louise who was humming to herself, washing dishes, passing them along to Jeremy to dry. Like a well oiled machine. “I like your mum, don’t want her mad at me.”

“She won’t be,” Eric laughed, scrubbing at his face. “She’d love that I’m leaving the house, especially with you.”

Eric stood up and made the grand announcement that he was going to leave before dessert. Like he predicted Louise had made some half assed version of a fruit tart she read off the internet that Mary Berry swore by. She looked disappointed until Eric added that he was going to grab a pint with Dele. Her frown comically turned upset down and she all but shoved them out the door. They all exchanged hugs and goodbyes as jackets were thrown on and shoes were shoved on feet. Louise squeezed Eric a little too hard and long as they said their farewells, a threatening promise of a phone call the next morning for details. She was content and happy, more than pleased with herself.

Eric decided to leave his car at his parents and walk to a place Dele knew that was a short walking distance away. Eric wasn’t that familiar with the area and it was clear that Dele took the underground to his parents home. They were quiet during the brief walk, Dele leading the way and Eric following dutifully. They arrived minutes later and the place wasn’t that bad looking on the outside, a bright red awning, a flashing open sign on the door. Inside was similar, intimate. The pub wasn’t crowded by any standards, a few stragglers sitting at the bar, the two TVs playing the same channel, highlights of that day’s footie.

“Follow me,” Dele finally broke the silence, pointing to a place towards the back of the establishment where they barmaids were filling salt and pepper shakers.

Eric slid into the booth, it was clearly old, wooden with a torn red cushion as the seat. It was homey and oddly comforting. “This place is a little dodgy, don’t ya think?”

“This place is home,” Dele replied proudly, practically beaming as he spoke, sliding into the seat opposite Eric. “Helped raise the lad that sits in front of you.”

“You grew up in the pub?” Eric asked tentatively. He didn’t know if Dele was speaking literally or not.

Dele laughed, not at Eric but the way he asked the question. He clearly didn’t want to judge but confusion was written all over his face. “The people that raised me used to own this place. Sold it right before my first year of uni, helped pay for it too.”

Eric took in the establishment once again and could picture a younger Dele in this place. Doing homework perched on a barstool, tongue hanging out his mouth as he tried to concentrate on his maths. Everyone was shit at maths so Eric assumed Dele was as well. Asking the stray patron for help but all of them too gone to even see the page correctly. “It’s cute.”

“Look,” Dele called to Eric’s attention, grabbing his hand and lightly pulling him towards the wood paneled walls next to them. It felt comfortable holding Eric’s hand, even though they both were tense during the initial contact. “Carved my initials on the wall and the year.”

“D.A. 2007,” Eric read out loud, his free handing tracing the faded lettering. “What’s the A stand for? Mum never told me your last name.”

Dele was hesitant for a moment, letting go of Eric’s hand as they both sat back down. He ran his hand over his head, tugging lightly at the remaining blonde strands from when he dyed it towards the end of the summer. “Alli, my given surname.”

Eric could see Dele immediately tense up when he answered. He wasn’t going to pry, it wasn’t his place to, especially on a first date. He let the tension wash over the area, let it leave them and hope that he hasn’t stepped over a boundary by asking the question. He didn’t like the fact that Dele wasn’t smiling anymore, he had grown to like his smile even after only knowing him for a few hours, it had become Eric’s favorite feature on him. “Why’d you decide to become a physical therapist?”

That began a light hearted albeit confusing conversation for Eric. Dele’s smile instantly returned as he spoke passionately and intensely about medicine and muscles and tendons that Eric knew nothing about. Sometime during the conversation two pints were placed in front of them, free of charge. The perks of knowing the previous owners Dele laughed. They discussed work and Eric spoke at length about working in construction, loving to get his hands dirty but loving the end result the most. Seeing a project come to life from start to finish. He was animated, hands moving fast as he spoke, smiling from ear to ear about a new apartment complex he helped build for the less fortunate. When Eric had a pint in him and an easy following conversation, there was no stopping him and it didn’t look like Dele wanted to anyway.

“I’m glad I did this,” Dele announced out of nowhere. “Grabbing dinner at your mum’s, meeting you.”

Eric tried to hide his blush, hoping he could blame it on the pint and the bad lighting in the pub. “Same. I was hesitant at first I must admit, but you’ve grown on me Delboy.”

Dele balked at Eric due to the nickname he was just bestowed upon. It was endearing and made his complexion match Eric’s in an instant. “We need to do this again. I mean if-if you want to.”

“I want to,” he replied without a second thought.

Another pint was set in front of both of them as they exchanged numbers, feeling like it was the right thing to do at that moment. Despite small hiccups during the evening everything was running smoothly. The conversation was easy and lighthearted, flowed naturally. No awkward pauses or silence, bumping from topic to topic without missing a beat. Eric spoke about living in Portugal and learning the language, how he felt out of place for the better part of a year, trying to adapt to a new place, country, and language while his younger siblings seemed to thrive the minute the plane touched down. Dele cheekily asking Eric to say something in Portuguese, Eric complying quickly. Even though he had no idea what Eric said it made Dele blush. Eric could definitely get used to seeing a permanent smile on Dele’s face, it made him look beautiful, angelic even.

“Thanks,” he replied.

“Huh?”

“You said my smile makes me look beautiful,” Dele repeated. “Don’t know if you meant to say that out loud.”

“I didn’t,” Eric laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. “But it’s true. When you smile your whole face lights up, it’s contagious.”

Dele ducked his head so he wasn’t looking directly at Eric and inevitably smiled and blushed again. He felt like a little school kid with a crush that was unattainable but in actuality it was. Unless Dele was reading the situation wrong, he could sense that Eric was warming up to the concept of a blind date and being set up. “Want to get out of here?”

Eric didn’t think twice as he stood up, shook on his coat and followed Dele’s lead outside. They walked back towards Eric’s parents home so he could get his car and drive them both home. Eric had an itch as he walked, flexing his hand because he wanted to grab Dele’s hand. It was just a need he had, to touch him. To feel another sense of closeness besides their conversations during the night. He felt like that may be too intimate though, too personal. They walked close to each other, still talking, still laughing, still learning each other. This was probably the best first date either had ever had. They felt like they had known each other forever and were just reintroducing themselves.

“Mum’s probably peeking out the window,” Eric said as they arrived at his parents house. “Seeing if we’re still together.”

“She’s harmless,” Dele replied. “She means well. All mums do.”

They got into Eric’s car after Eric looked directly at the front rooms window and swore he saw two eyes peering out. He had to remind himself that his mum was just looking after him, making sure everything in his life clicked together. The first time she tried to set him up with someone and so far so good. It felt comfortable driving Dele home, the radio on low to some talk radio that Eric usually listened to during his long drives. They were still talking, the conversation never dying down. Eric sucked in a breath when Dele’s hand touched his as it rested on the center console. His palm was facing up and Dele’s fingers effortlessly slid into his hand. It was warm and clammy but felt good. He could tell Dele was fidgeting just by the way his hand was never still in his. His fingers trying to familiarize themselves with Eric’s palm, tracing the calluses from years of work.

“Quit it,” Eric laughed as he drove down the road of Dele’s flat.

Dele removed his hand quickly, an embarrassed look on his face as he did so. “I’m so so sorry. I should’ve asked before I did it, I-I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s fine,” Eric told him as he shut off the car in front of the flat. “You were just tickling me, that’s all. It was kinda nice, you holding my hand and all.”

“Oh.”

“Del,” Eric called to him, turning in his seat to properly face the other man. He placed his hand on Dele’s cheek, his thumb brushing his cheek gently. “I had a great time tonight. Meeting you, getting to know you was amazing.”

“Oh.”

Eric sighed as he hand still lightly stroked Dele’s cheek. “Say something please.”

“I want to kiss you,” he responded boldly.

Eric sucked in a breath at Dele’s words, his hand had stilled on his cheek. If this were a romantic comedy movie this would be where they kiss for the first time. The end of a first date, in Eric’s car outside Dele’s flat. Cliché. Eric usually scoffed at rom coms but honestly he could now see why throngs of people packed the cinemas to see if Emma Stone would get the guy at the end of two hours.

“Now it’s your turn to say something,” Dele nervously laughed, biting at his bottom lip.

“Come here,” Eric whispered huskily, pulling Dele closer by the nape of his neck.

He hoped he didn’t overstep any boundaries by being aggressive when he pulled Dele in. Their lips touched and, yep, the rom com cliché continued. It was soft and gentle with a sprinkle of hunger, didn’t feel like a first kiss at all. Dele nibbled on Eric’s bottom lip which caused him to let out a noise he hoped he didn’t have to explain later. Dele grabbed onto Eric’s jacket trying to pull himself closer as he panted into Eric’s mouth to get some air into his lungs.

“Come upstairs,” Dele whined into Eric’s lips. 

Eric panted to catch his breath, eyes still closed. “Del, I can’t.”

“Please,” he begged, pulling on Eric’s jacket again.

“Not now,” he replied, kissing Dele softly.

Dele reluctantly released Eric’s jacket and threw himself against the passenger seat like a petulant child. It was endearing how he tried to act hurt and betrayed but his face was red and his lips plump and cherry colored. Eric’s fingertips traced his own lips, feeling the swell which caused him to smirk.

“Go,” Eric said. “If you stay I may cave and take you up on your offer.”

“Fine by me,” Dele responded with a laugh and a shrug of his shoulders, making himself comfortable against the cars headrest.

“Del,” Eric pleaded. “Please go before I regret doing what I want to do right now.”

The statement made Dele’s inside burn and he could feel the butterflies fluttering inside filling him with warmth even for someone he had just met. With a huff he kissed Eric one last time, determined to make an impression before saying his goodbyes and leaving the car. One he got into the lift his phone pinged, a text. It was Eric asking when they could have their second date. With a shake of his head and a new blush creeping up on his cheeks Dele replied his answer.


End file.
